


A Hand, My Trusty Fiere

by Lucky107



Series: A Red, Red Rose [14]
Category: Hell on Wheels (TV)
Genre: 19th Century, Canon Divergence, F/M, Family, Fix-It, Gen, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-09 00:46:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10399932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucky107/pseuds/Lucky107
Summary: The last time either of them were this close to a steam engine locomotive was when they were working for the Union Pacific Railroad.[Season 5]





	

**Author's Note:**

> Auld Lang Syne - The Cast - 1994

The train rolls to a stop at the temporary terminus in Laramie with a loud whistle, billowing steam and chalky smoke.  For a sound once unheard in these parts of the American frontier, it's become a comfort to those who call Laramie their home.

Sean is the first one down and he offers Bonnie Mae his hand.

The last time either of them were this close to a steam engine locomotive, they were working for the Union Pacific Railroad and laying track for Cheyenne.  When they left Hell on Wheels, they fled for the Nebraska wilderness with little more than the clothes on their backs and a handful of medicine.

Today the arrive in their best: Sean McGinnes dons a freshly-pressed suit, one of many to his name back home on the west coast, and Bonnie Mae MacLeod fusses with the elaborate embroidery on her gown.  They've come a long way together in the two short years it took for the railroad to catch up to them and it hasn't been an easy life, but it's an honest one built on business intuition and old-fashioned hard work.

_—the American dream._

Sean anxiously takes Bonnie Mae by the hand, running his thumb over the ridges of her knuckles beneath her white cotton glove.  "Don't be too long," he warns.  "We need to catch the next coach west."

"Oh, Sean," she assures, caressing his cheek with a doting fondness.

The railroad men wouldn't even recognize them now.

"I—"

But Sean is at a loss for words when that familiar smile teases her features, still so young and kind after two of the hardest years of her life.  The way she's bounced back from her hardship with so much life and a willingness to forgive, to forget...  He's afraid he'll always be a stranger in her world, standing on the outside and only catching brief glimpses through the window of her smile.

Bonnie leans in without a word to kiss his cheek and this time Sean smiles, too.

\- - -

A lady sticks out like a sore thumb when she enters the Laramie saloon, shoulder-to-shoulder with the staple railroad patrons, in her finest clothes and catches the eye of everyone in the room.

One stranger in the crowd whistles loudly - obscenely, even - as he slides back behind the counter to serve this particular out-of-towner a drink.  "Well now, ain't this an unfamiliar sight?"  He leers as he fetches her a glass, but Bonnie Mae maintains her composure; she's no stranger to his kind.  "To what do I owe the pleasure, darlin'?"

"Pardon me, but I's lookin' for a fella callin' 'imself Michael McGinnes," she says.  "He come through here?"

But Bonnie doesn't even need to ask - she's spent enough time in Hell on Wheels with the man to be certain he runs this seedy establishment.  His new friend's an interesting touch, for sure.

"Can't say that he has, darlin', but I—"

"Leave 'er alone, Shea."  Both turn to look in the direction of Mickey's voice and he crudely cocks his thumb.  "Go.  She's an ol' friend of mine an' she's got no business with the likes of _you_."

The man, Johnny Shea, lingers for only a moment longer before opting to keep his mouth shut.  He storms off, muttering something unintelligible through his assortment of rotting teeth, before disappearing to the establishment's upper floor.  In his absence, Mickey breathes a sigh of relief.

"I almost didn't believe it was you," he confesses as he brings up a bottle of strong whiskey.  "What're you doin' in Laramie?"

"Don't even know where to start," she admits.  "Got a little business goin' since reachin' the west coast an' we's been doin' real good out there.  Didn't think it possible, the night we left camp, but we's just in Chicago for that Board of Trade they got an'—"

Bonnie removes her gloves as Mickey pours two shots and he catches his first glimpse of Bonnie's mutilated hand; on what remains of the ring finger, a mere stump at the joint, is Sean's old Claddagh ring from back in Ireland.  The emblem is facing inward, right towards her heart, and for a moment Mickey feels sick.  He knows he ought to be happy for her - for them - but he's not.

He's heartbroken.

"You always have a thing for the bad boys, lass?"  He jokes with the same good humor they once shared, back when he was operating the old magic lantern show with Sean.

But Bonnie's not laughing as she swirls the untouched contents of her glass.  "He ain't bad, Mick.  Just lost."

The silence that follows is uncomfortable; it feeds off of the elephant in the room and continues to grow until Mickey can't stand it any longer.  He runs a hand back through his hair with a nervous demeanor and asks, "Did, uh...  Did Sean ever tell you 'bout that night in Boston?"

"Never asked," Bonnie admits, tossing back her drink.  "Didn't think it made much of a difference; I'd never have made the trip west if not for who is he today, so he owes me no explanation of who he was then."

It's only when Bonnie Mae looks up from the empty glass that Mickey truly appreciates what he threw away two years ago: Bonnie's capacity for forgiveness extends to him, even now, when he's certain she knows the full extent of his role in the Boston incident.  She certainly knows his role in covering up Senator Metcalf.  Had Mickey just gone to Bonnie with an honest heart two years ago, she would never have cast him aside.

In fact, Bonnie could have come to love Mickey the same way she came to love Sean.

Mickey pours himself another shot before searching for something beneath the counter.  Bonnie can't mask her surprise when he presents it to her.  "Mickey, that's—"

"A truce," he suggests, passing the filthy and travel-worn plush cat into Bonnie's hands.  She plants a loving kiss on top of the toy's head, unconcerned with where it's been.  Holding that cat, she looks just like she did back at the magic lantern show the first time he saw.  Back when Mickey fell in love with her.  "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

Bonnie dotes on the memento, fussing with his ears and tail as if he were real, before she laments, "Y'know... I really am sorry for the way things went between us."

"As am I, lass.  More than you'll ever know."

"I—"  But she pauses, looking up from the toy to search Mickey's face for traces of sincerity.  "—if, once the east meets the west an' all this railroad business dries up, you're serious 'bout goin' straight... you might try lookin' us up in San Francisco.  You's always got yourself a place there, Mick."


End file.
